Trojan
by AnimeToon
Summary: Castle and Beckett investigate the murder of a high school baseball coach, and the attempted murder of the initial target–a sixteen-year-old baseball player. The misleading case blindly navigates them through alleys occupied by hackers, organized crime syndicates, and ghosts of the past.


_Okay, this is my third story; first non-DBZ story._

_This story is formatted like the show, the gang investigating a murder, in present time, but with the following changes:_

_Beckett and Castle **ARE NOT** dating. Personally, I feel like the fun, back-and-forth dynamic of their relationship has since disappeared now that they're together. Hoping this doesn't change the feel of the story for anyone!_

_Whenever Castle's at home, Alexis and Martha will be present. I've missed most of the season six episodes, so I'm not really sure how they're used now, but this is how I will use them. Alexis can be annoying sometimes, but hopefully you like having her and Martha around to balance Castle out like I do. :)_

_Okay, I think that covers everything! Read on... :)_

**_This chapter contains: Adult Language, Mentions of Violence._**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I in any way affiliated with Castle._**

* * *

_12th Precinct, Midday_

Things are quiet at the precinct today.

Esposito's leaning back in his chair, legs extended and one ankle draped over the other, having a game of catch with the wall across from him.

Ryan's hard at work on a Rubik's cube. He's got the green and yellow sides completed. Not surprising. He is the resident geek.

"Hey." Esposito calls to him, still bouncing the stress ball off the wall.

"Yeah?" Ryan responds, though engrossed in the task at hand. He's nearly got the red side completed now.

"If you could have your pick of the Disney princesses, who would you choose?"

Ryan stops fiddling with the Rubik's cube and slowly looks up at Esposito. "Dude... Seriously?"

Espo catches the ball, and awkwardly glances at his partner out of the corner of his eye. "What?!" He exclaims defensively upon seeing Ryan's deadpan stare. "There was nothing on TV last night!... So I was surfing the channels, and... ended up watching Shrek, what?!"

"Nothing, man, nothing," Ryan chuckles, setting the Rubik's cube on his desk. "So... Just to be clear, you're seriously inquiring out of genuine curiosity-"

Javi whips his chair around and drops the stress ball on his desk, and Ryan just as quickly throws his hands up and laughs, "Okay, okay, relax!" Javi does, to a degree. His posture turns lax, but his gaze is still tense and defensive.

So, Ryan wipes the smirk off his face, clears his throat, and gives the unusual question some thought. "Uh... okay... umm... Ariel." Javi quirks a brow at that choice. "Really, bro... Ariel?" Ryan shrugs, then nods. "Yeah, Ariel. She's gorgeous, and she can sing."

"Don't they _all_ sing?... And... okay, yeah, I'll give it to you, she might be the sexiest–bright red hair, the shell-top, a little sneak peek of the booty when she turns human..." Javi says that last bit with a raise of his brows, inciting a boyish laugh out of Ryan. "But you're overlooking a _major_ deal breaker: _she's a_ _mermaid_!"

"...Okay, so... human Ariel, then." Javi smirks. "You sure, bro? 'Cause if you pick her human form, it has to be when she can't talk." "Dude-" "Nope! Them's the rules, so which is it gonna be: mermaid Ariel or human Ariel?"

Ryan huffs and runs a hand through his brown locks. He places his elbow on his desk and rests his cheek on his fist, lightly shaking his head at his partner's condescending grin. "Fine... Mermaid Ariel."

"_C'mon_, bro! How would that even work?!" Espo asks with a crescendoing tone while gesturing his arms around his body. "We would make it work, okay? Her being a mermaid doesn't necessarily mean... _that's_... you know, out of the question. Mermaids are mammals, right, well... _maybe_ mermaids are like dolphins... in which case... the... uh... _mechanics_... should _hypothetically_... be probable..." Ryan trails off and looks away from Esposito's puzzled frown. "Yo, what... What the _hell_ are you talking about, are you telling me dolphins _bone_?"

"Okay, you know what," Ryan says, pulling at his tie, clearly flustered and fed up with the silly conversation, "Screw you, Javi. I answered your ridiculous question, and if you can't understand that true love prevails over any and all obstacles, then that is _your_ problem." Ryan whirls around, and starts organizing his desk.

"True love?" Esposito repeats, fighting to keep his laughter at bay. "You're... _truly_... _in love_... with Ariel?"

"Who's Ariel?" Beckett interjects, finally emerging from the coffee room.

"You know–_The Little Mermaid_. I asked him which Disney princess would he _romance_ if given the chance, and he chose Ariel, _mermaid_ Ariel. Can you believe that?"

Beckett wisely takes a sip of her coffee before answering. "No, but in fairness to Ryan, he's not the one that prompted this oh-so interesting topic of discussion."

"Hey, I'm just making conversation, trying to pass time. In case you haven't noticed, it's a slow day."

Beckett nods and walks towards her desk, but pauses mid-stride when her phone suddenly rings. The three detectives glance at each other. "Fret not, Espo. Your idle day is over."

She retrieves her phone from her pocket and accepts the call. "Beckett."

* * *

_The Crime Scene, Afternoon _

"This is a weird one," Lanie comments of the case as Beckett enters the crime scene, weaving around several C.S.U. techs along the way.

"Weird how?" Beckett asks, now standing next to her close friend and colleague, the two women gazing down at the vic's lifeless body.

He's face-down on the white-tiled floor, left leg bent, right arm stretched above his head, two or three feet away from the entrance to the hallway. He was running for his life when the first few rounds hit, and ultimately collapsed when his body could absorb no more bullets. He'd fallen to the floor with such force that it broke his nose and glasses.

"Well..." Lanie starts, hugging the clipboard to her chest and turning to face Beckett, "From the looks of it, he wasn't the intended victim."

"What makes you say that?"

"There was another victim, Nicky Nakamura, one of the players on the team our vic coached."

Beckett's brows raise at this. "Wait, there's another vic? Where is his body?"

"In an ambulance, on the way to the hospital. He's not dead–probably would've been if our unfortunate vic here hadn't been sent to check on him and inadvertently stumbled in on whatever was going on in here, but that's not the weird part."

Lanie motions for Beckett to follow her, and leads her to a group of lockers in the far right corner of the room, where a bloody baseball bat and forest green duffle bag allude to Lanie's speculations. "Nicky wasn't shot. He was bludgeoned with a bat."

Beckett slides on latex gloves and examines the bat. "Not just _any_ bat; his _own_," She observes, seeing Nicky's blood-covered graffiti-style signature. "How bad was the bludgeoning?"

_"Bludgeoning?!"_

Beckett and Lanie turn at the high-pitch query, and see Castle rushing past the uniforms guarding the locker room door. "Time-out, don't start without me!"

Beckett sighs, and hands the bloody bat to a C.S.U. tech. "Murder waits for no man, Castle; why should murder investigations?"

Castle stands next to Lanie and pants, "Because I overslept, but I'm here now, and I asked nicely?" Castle glances over his shoulder at the body being photographed by C.S.U. techs. "Uh, Lanie, I know you're the M.E., and not to tell you how to do your job or anything, but I'm _pretty_ sure he was shot." Lanie cocks her brows at him, and Castle shoves his hands in his pockets and clears his throat.

"There was another victim, Castle," Beckett says. "He was beaten with his own bat."

Castle inhales softly and rubs his hands together as if creating a fire. "You're kidding me, his own bat? How _deliciously_ diabolical!"

Beckett and Lanie stare at him. "I-I... I mean how terribly... terrible–ahem, so, anyway, back to the bludgeoning, is what... we were talking about? How gory was it, are we talking skull, brain?"

Beckett scoffs at him. "Castle!"

"He was unresponsive, and bleeding from his scalp," Lanie simply answers, deciding it best to ignore Castle's inappropriate bid for graphic details. "But, he wasn't bleeding heavily, and it looked as though the assailant was only swinging at his head, not his face or anywhere else for that matter. It may be too early to definitively say, but I doubt he's suffered any traumatic brain damage. I'm thinking, worst case scenario, he'll have a nasty concussion, and he might be unconscious for a few days."

"Let's hope so," Beckett says, examining the contents of the bloody duffle bag. It belongs to Nicky. But it merely contains a change of clothes, his phone, and his wallet.

Beckett tries turning the iPhone on, but the battery must be dead. "Let's get this phone to the precinct. Have Tory comb through it."

"Right, so, I just woke up, and I'm a little slow," Castle says as Beckett hands the phone over to a tech. "How 'bout a quick game of catch-up? Let's start with the dead guy on the floor, who's he?"

A small frown twists Beckett's lips, and it's not 'cause Castle's pointing at the body like an inquisitive child. She smoothes her long hair behind her ears, and awkwardly glances at Castle. "Actually, I know as much about him as you do, Castle. I guess I got a little too intrigued by the second vic that wasn't killed, and then you came skipping in-"

"I wasn't _skipping_!"

"Point is, _Castle_, I don't know who this vic is either."

"Allow us to bring you up to speed," says Esposito as he and Ryan enter the locker room.

* * *

_The Rundown_

_Victim: __Patrick Boyd; 33; Assistant High School Varsity Baseball Coach; Found dead in the men's locker room of Pier 40, popular sports facility within the Hudson River Park_

_Description: __Male; Caucasian; __Eyes:__ Blue; __Hair:__ Dark brown, curly, neck-length; __Height:__ 5'11; Average build_

_Cause of Death: __Multiple gunshot wounds_

_Additional Details: __Dressed in gray sweat suit with a white shirt and white Adidas; Wore glasses; Asthma pump in left pocket_

* * *

"Victim is one Patrick Boyd, 33. He was the assistant coach for the Stuyvesant varsity baseball team."

_"Stuy?"_ Beckett can hardly believe her ears.

Javi and Ryan glance at each other, then nod at Beckett simultaneously. "You know the place?" Javi asks.

"Yeah, I know the place. That's my old high school."

"Ah, but of course one of New York's nine specialized high schools preceded your pre-law studies at the prestigious Stanford University." Castle says this with a dazzling smile, that Beckett ignores.

"Have we confirmed Nicky was the target?" Beckett asks.

Javi nods. "The team uses Pier 40 for games and practice during the week and every Saturday."

"So, the killer would've known when and where to find Nicky." Beckett deduces.

Javi concurs, "Right," and elaborates, "And we think the killer did just that today."

"On Saturdays, practice begins at noon, _sharp_," Ryan enlightens. "Nicky is always one of the first to arrive, but..."

"Let me guess," Castle says. "Today, he was late?"

"Mm-hmm, about thirty minutes late. The batboy was fetching some more... _bats_ when Nicky came running into the locker room. He said Nicky was out of breath, looked shook up, like somebody had been chasing him or something. He tried to ask him what was wrong, but Nicky told him it was nothing, and to tell the coach he'd be on the field in five. But... after seven minutes passed, Coach Conrad-"

"Coach Hard-ass," Javi coughs.

Ryan peers at him out of the corner of his eye and continues, "Coach Conrad sent-"

_"Ordered."_

"Coach... Boyd... to check on-"

_"Fetch."_

"Dude, seriously, okay, yes, the guy is a major tool, but just stop, okay?"

"Okay."

_"Soooo..."_ Beckett cuts in, the two glancing at her like caught children, "It was the head coach that unwittingly sent the assistant coach to his death?"

Espo and Ryan flicker looks between each other. "I'm not exactly sold on _unwittingly_..." Esposito says with a raise of his brows. "Yeah, me neither," Ryan agrees. "And it's not 'cause he's a tool or anything." "He _is_ a tool, though," Javi nods. "Yeah..." Ryan nods in agreement.

"Guys! Hel-lo! Over here!" They look at Beckett. "Here's what I need, okay: more detective-isms, less Castle-isms."

"Hey!" Castle protests. Beckett's gloved hand in his face shushes him.

"What makes you think it might not have been unwittingly?"

Ryan twiddles his fingers. "Well... if it weren't for Boyd's untimely death, Conrad might not have been head coach for much longer."

"According to the batboy," Javi adds. "We haven't talked to the rest of the team yet."

"My, my," Castle comments, moving his face out from behind Beckett's hand and standing next to Esposito and Ryan. "Then how can we be certain _Boyd_ wasn't the target?"

Ryan and Esposito purse their lips at Castle. "C'mon, think about it," Castle presses. "Conrad sent Boyd in here. His livelihood at stake, perhaps the resentful Coach Conrad, soon-to-be just... Conrad, had a _designated_ _hitter_ waiting to _permanently bench_ his replacement."

Beckett sighs at his antics. "Too soon for baseball puns?" Castle asks. "You think?" Lanie answers. "I'd feed the birds if you'd thought that through, bro," Esposito comments.

"I thought it through!"

Esposito, "The only reason Conrad sent Boyd in the locker room was to get _Nicky_."

Ryan, "And he had to get Nicky because, after showing up late for the _first time ever_, _something_ was holding him up."

Esposito, _"The killer."_

Ryan, "Which means the killer was here _for Nicky_."

Castle looks between the two grinning detectives, then holds his left index finger up and says, "Or... Nicky was _in on it_, and was used to lure Boyd in here, and to shift the focus of the investigation–BOOM!"

Esposito, Ryan, and Lanie all frown at him; he just smiles back.

"Actually, both theories sound plausible," Beckett admits. "Castle and I will talk to Conrad. Ryan, Espo, talk to the other players, and have uniforms canvass everyone else in Pier 40. Someone had to have seen the killer arrive and leave. Lanie, can you move Boyd to the lab, please, and call me with the results?"

"I always do," Lanie says, signaling for the techs to come bag Boyd's body.

"Guys, before you start your canvass, do we know who called it in?" Beckett asks Ryan and Esposito.

"Anonymous," Javi answers. A bit too cut and dry, so Ryan sheds more light. "Dispatch says the caller was male, teens to early twenties. Sounded scared, stuttered through the entire call, but when they asked his name, he hesitated, then hung up."

"Were they able to trace the call?" Beckett asks.

Both Ryan and Javi shake their heads. "Burner phone. Untraceable," Javi answers.

Beckett frowns. "Why would a scared witness be calling from a burner phone?"

"Already had it on him," Ryan determines. "Which means he could be party to whatever Nicky-"

"Or Boyd," Castle throws in.

"Was mixed up in," Ryan finishes.

Beckett rolls her eyes. Honestly, she's surrounded by know-it-alls. "Alright, dig up everything you can, and meet us back at the precinct."

Javi and Ryan nod and leave the locker room, followed by Beckett and Castle, on their way to meet the not-so-popular head coach.

* * *

_Person of Interest: The Coach_

_Name: __Ellis Conrad_

_Age: __45_

_Occupation: __High School Varsity Baseball Coach_

_Description: __Male; Caucasian; __Eyes:__ Hazel; __Hair:__ Gray, combed back, thinning; __Height:__ 5'9; Average build_

_Additional Details: __Dressed in khaki pants with a navy polo shirt and white Nikes; Black Cantonese tattoo on left forearm; Was to be replaced as head coach by Patrick Boyd_

* * *

"Coach Conrad, I'm Detective Beckett, this is my partner, Castle. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind." "I think he does," Castle mutters as he and Beckett hustle to catch up with the power-walking man.

Conrad, carrying a large black duffle bag on his right shoulder, glances backwards at them, and doesn't even bother to slow his pace. "Look, Hotpants, I was just grilled by those other detectives–what do you two want, huh? Am I free to go, or what?"

"Hotpants?" Castle repeats with a frown.

Beckett remains calm and informs the man, "I'm sorry, sir, but no one is permitted to leave until we've spoken to everyone that was present at the time of the crime, so you can stop walking now, or we can have this conversation downtown."

The three stop in their tracks in the middle of the second floor hallway next to a stairwell that leads up to the rooftop parking lot, which is apparently where the coach was heading.

He turns to face them so slowly, it's clearly begrudgingly, and says, "What more do you people need to know?"

A slight smile briefly appears and quickly vanishes on Beckett's face. The coach is quite agitated. Interesting. "Can you tell us about the second victim, Nicky Nakamura, please?"

"...Oh... Nicky... y-yeah, sure," He starts hesitantly, seemingly surprised by the line of questioning. He appears to visibly relax at the mention of Nicky. Perhaps he was tense and curt when approached because he was afraid Boyd and the status of his job would be the topics up for discussion.

"Nicky's a sophomore... Extremely smart. Top of his class. Straight A student. Math is what he excels at, though... A bookworm as well as an athlete. He juggles all the desirable positions on the team: pitcher, catcher, shortstop, second base, centerfielder."

"Exceptional," Castle comments. "Unfortunately, for the exceptional, jealousy often looms in their shadows, festering into hatred."

Conrad frowns at Castle, clearly not catching the implication, so Beckett spells it out. "Did any of the other players exhibit animosity towards Nicky, Coach Conrad?"

"Uh... As a matter of fact, yeah. Devon. Devon Foster."

Beckett and Castle look at each other, then back at Conrad. "Was Devon at practice today?" Beckett asks.

Conrad shakes his head. "No. I benched Devon about three and a half weeks ago. Then, a week after I benched him, I had to place him on indefinite suspension."

Beckett and Castle's brows arch at this. "Why was he benched?" Beckett asks.

"Eh... Multitude of reasons... Like I said, Nicky is a straight A student, and a phenomenal player. He quickly became the star player of the team. Devon _was_ the star player, _until_ Nicky transferred to Stuy in February of last year and tried out for the team. Blunt truth is, Devon's a great player, but Nicky's better. Not to mention, Devon's barely above a 2.0 GPA. So, the last few plays, if Nicky was playing another position, I put Devon on second base and centerfield instead of shortstop, pitcher or catcher, and he was _furious_. After running over some new plays in the Stuy gym one afternoon, I overhear Devon threatening Nicky into telling me to cut back on his playing time–or attempting to threaten him, anyway. Nicky didn't seem the slightest bit fazed, and even tried to tell me it was nothing, but I wasn't gonna let it slide, so I benched Devon. He was still allowed to participate in practice, but had to sit out games. I told him if he improved his performance and GPA, and made peace with Nicky (genuine or pretend), he'd be off the bench."

"Well, seeing as how you suspended him a week later, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he didn't improve, or make fake peace with Nicky?" Castle speculates. Beckett cuts a mildly amused glance at her partner.

"Funny thing is, he _was_ improving, and even funnier, _Nicky_ started _tutoring_ him. Yeah, I must've had the same look on my face when I found out," He comments of Castle and Beckett's surprised expressions. "But then, I get an anonymous call one day–couldn't tell if it was a joke or legit... To be honest, I'm still on the fence about it."

"What did this anonymous caller say?" Castle asks.

Conrad sighs. "He said... Devon uses... stimulants..."

"Stimulants..." Castle slowly repeats. Beckett phrases it more appropriately. "You mean steroids, don't you, Coach Conrad?"

Conrad reluctantly nods. "Yeah... I didn't believe it, but when I told Devon he had to be tested, he freaked out, and refused."

"So, he _was_ using steroids." Castle says.

"He swore he wasn't, but still refused to take the drug test, so I had no choice but to suspend him."

"Would he have had any reason to believe Nicky was the anonymous caller?" Beckett asks.

Conrad shakes his head. "I wouldn't think so, I mean, Nicky was tutoring him. Besides, I know it wasn't Nicky. The caller sounded like an older man, maybe 30s or early 40s."

"30s or 40s–could it have been Patrick Boyd?" Castle asks.

Mentioning the late victim noticeably changes the air around them. Conrad's expression contorts into a sour scowl, and his stance becomes rigid once more. "It's possible... That _vulture's_ specialty was knowing exactly where to drive the knife when you weren't looking..."

Castle and Beckett stare at the man for a moment. "That would be in reference to his title in the near future reading _'Head Coach Boyd'_, yes?" Castle gently prompts.

The coach blankly stares at him. "You know?" He asks, deadpan and indifferent.

"Yes," Beckett confirms. "Yes, we know... We also understand it was _you_ that sent Boyd to check on Nicky after he'd arrived to practice late, which we _also_ understand to be very uncharacteristic for the punctual student... Do you have any thoughts as to why Nicky's being late for the first time led to him being beaten and Boyd being shot to death?"

The thick silence that follows Beckett's inquiry is deafening. Castle gulps under the harsh glare being equally distributed between him and Beckett.

Conrad drops his duffle bag to the floor, making Castle flinch, and approaches Beckett and Castle. "You think I'm stupid?... You think I don't know what you're all thinking?... Yes, that bastard was gunning for my job, and would've had it for sure, too! But was that reason enough to want him dead? _No!_ Am I happy he's dead? _No!_ Am I sad he's dead? _No!_ Contrary to what you and everybody else is thinking, Detective, I had _nothing_ to do with Boyd's death, 'cause if I had, I would've killed that son of a bitch myself; and I _certainly_ wouldn't have dragged Nicky into it–that kid's my star player!"

Beckett and Castle gaze wordlessly at the coach, absolutely stunned."Wow..." Castle finally says. "That is some _Basic Instinct_ honesty, if I _ever_ heard it..."

Beckett clears her throat. "Um, ahem, Coach Conrad, one last thing: am I correct in assuming that _vulture_ comment means Boyd had a possible motive for wanting Devon off the team?"

Conrad nods. "Yeah... He was pushing for me to suspend Devon ever since I caught him threatening Nicky."

"And Devon knew this?" Castle asks.

"Yes..." The coach answers agitatedly as he reaches for his duffle bag. "Can I go now?" He asks with his arms out at his sides.

"May I go now." Castle corrects, then quickly looks away when the coach glowers at him.

"Yes, you may go." Beckett says with a polite smile.

With a final glare, the coach and his duffle bag retreat into the stairwell, leaving Castle and Beckett awkwardly staring after him.

Castle looks at Beckett. "Is it just me, or did you also find that to be _all_ _kinds_ of uncomfortable?..."

Beckett chuckles. "How many kinds of uncomfortable are there? Wait, hold that thought," She says, placing her left index finger to Castle's lips while reaching for her ringing phone.

"Beckett... Yes?... Okay, thank you. I'm on my way." Beckett puts her phone in her pocket and motions for Castle to walk with her. "Good news–Nicky is stabilized. Hospital says we can come down and talk to the attending doctor."

"Aw, man..." Castle whines as he and Beckett take the stairs down to the level one parking lot. Beckett shoots a confused look his way. "What, don't get me wrong, I'm glad the kid didn't die, but now that he's okay, he's gonna tell us who attacked him and shot Boyd, then it's case solved, and that's just _way_ too easy... This one started out so promising, you know, several _twists_ from the start, and now it's about to end before it could really begin and-and... Ugh... Such a shame..."

Castle and Beckett stop at the foot of the stairs outside the door to the level one parking lot. Beckett sighs dramatically, and holds the door open for him. "Not to worry, Castle. I'm sure you'll rebound by the time we get to the hospital. After all, the notions of shame and pity are lost on you."

Silly grin marking his lips, Castle shuffles through the doorway at the wave of Beckett's hand, and Beckett follows, letting the heavy door clang shut behind her.

* * *

_12th Precinct, Evening_

"Boys, you'll be happy to know that this case still promises to tickle our intellects," Castle announces as he and Beckett exit the elevator.

Ryan and Esposito look up from their desks at them. "What are you talking about?" Javi asks with a frown.

Castle's about to answer, when Beckett beats him to it. "Our trip to the hospital," She says, casting a disapproving gaze onto Castle as she takes off her jacket and tosses it over the back of her chair. Castle shrinks under her gaze, and retreats for the coffee room. "Well... you, uh, you fill them in on the good news. I'll just... be grabbing a cup of coffee–ahem."

"What's the good news?" Ryan asks.

Beckett crosses her arms and leans against the edge of Ryan's desk. "Nicky's gonna be fine. He's unconscious, but Lanie was right; he's only got a concussion, and the doctor thinks he's only gonna be out for a couple of days or so. Bad news is, the doctor is almost certain he'll have post-traumatic amnesia, which means he'll be confused, and more than likely won't remember much of anything... How 'bout you guys, find out anything interesting?"

Ryan and Javi look at each other and grin. "Yeah, you could say that..." Ryan sing-songs.

"Did I hear "interesting"?" Castle asks, sipping his coffee as he rejoins the group. "I _love_ interesting... The floor is yours, Honeymilk."

Beckett and Esposito snicker, and Ryan narrowly stares at Castle as the group approaches the board.

* * *

_The Murder Board_

_Victims: __Patrick Boyd, Nicky Nakamura_

_Victim One: __Patrick Boyd_

_Status: __Deceased_

_Time of Death: __Between 12:35 p.m. and 12:50 p.m._

_Additional Details: __Single, Never married, Family has been notified_

_Victim Two: __Nicolas "Nicky" Nakamura; 16; Attends Stuyvesant High School; Found unconscious in the men's locker room of Pier 40, popular sports facility within the Hudson River Park_

_Time of Attack: __Injuries sustained between 12:26 p.m. and 12:35 p.m._

_Status: __Alive_

_Description: __Male; Japanese; __Eyes: __Brown; __Hair: __Black, shaggy, ear-length; __Height: __6'1; Slender, athletic build_

_Additional Details: __Sophomore; Straight A student; Star athlete; Arrived late to practice (highly unusual) and appeared shaken up; May have been the killer's target_

_Suspect: __Devon Foster_

* * *

"De-Devon Foster?" Beckett stammers as Ryan scribbles the name in question. "His name came up when we talked to Conrad–said Devon had a rivalry with Nicky, among... other things..."

"What, other things being that Boyd wanted Devon booted from the team for threatening Nicky, and that Devon was supposedly using steroids?" Javi guessed.

"How did you know that?" Castle asks. "I can understand how threatening Nicky might've gotten wind, but no one should know about the steroids except Conrad, Devon and-"

"Boyd," Javi finishes. "None of the players know why, but apparently Boyd wanted Devon off the team _so_ bad, he personally told all of them about the threats and the steroids–said if Devon ever threatened anyone or if they caught him doing anything strange, to let him know _immediately_."

"And that's not all Boyd did," Ryan adds. "When Devon was accused of using steroids and refused to take a drug test, Boyd tried to go over Conrad's head and reach out to UCLA."

"UCLA?" Beckett questions.

"Yep," Ryan continues. "Courtesy of UCLA, Devon has a full ride in the form of a baseball scholarship waiting for him."

"And Boyd was trying to have UCLA _rescind_ that full ride," Javi continues. "Luckily for Devon, UCLA wouldn't act off the word of an assistant high school coach that was tipped by an anonymous caller, and furthermore, they told Boyd that Devon had until the end of his senior year to take a drug test."

"Is Devon aware he got lucky?" Beckett asks.

"You mean does Devon know Boyd _unsuccessfully_ tried to have his scholarship taken away?" Ryan clarifies, to which Beckett nods, to which Esposito answers, "He knows Boyd called UCLA, and that he has until the end of the school year to take the test, but he isn't aware his scholarship is still intact."

"What-uh-wait... one second here," Castle interjects. "Doesn't all this prove _my_ theory, that _Boyd_ could've been the target, and that's why Nicky _wasn't_ killed?"

Javi quirks a brow at Castle. "Bro... _your_ _theory_ was that _Conrad_ used Nicky as an _accomplice,_ and a _designated hitter_ as _job security_."

"Okay-okay, so, maybe I was a _teeny bit off_ about the who and why, but-"

"Besides," Ryan interrupts, "We're saying Devon had a strong motive to want Boyd _and_ Nicky dead, as according to the players, even though Nicky started tutoring Devon, that rivalry was still _very_ alive and _very_ noticeable... _Oh_, and, by the way... motive isn't all Devon had... He also had opportunity."

"Opportunity?" Beckett and Castle repeat simultaneously.

"Yep," Javi confirms. "Not long before units arrived, one of the players was getting a Gatorade from a vending machine in the first floor hallway, and according to him, Devon ran past him and out into the level one parking lot. And get this... the kid _swears_ he saw blood on Devon's jeans."

Castle cups his chin and turns to Beckett. "How much do you wanna bet _he_ was the anonymous 911 caller?"

Beckett grins at her partner. First time of the day they were on the same page.

* * *

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